


Things Will Turn Out Fine

by hellodenihere



Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, follows no actual timeline just because
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 02:06:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14125773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellodenihere/pseuds/hellodenihere
Summary: It was both terrifying and comforting to know that he's been through worse. And damn annoying too.-from the tumblr prompt, "everything's going to be fine."





	Things Will Turn Out Fine

**Author's Note:**

> takes place after a serious arc because injured gintoki is always a good thing. definitely. post-gintsu. 
> 
> also this has been written and published on ff.net ages ago. made a few edits here and there tho

He tries to stay quiet for as long as he can, because he got cut a dozen of times already to last a lifetime. So of course he’s tough. Nothing could ever really hurt-  
  
"H-Hey! W-Watch it. That hurts, you know!" he complains, gritting his teeth as watches her wrap the white roll of bandages around his abdomen.  
So much for acting tough.  
  
She rolls her eyes, deciding not to say anything at all, and instead continues with the binding, adding more force than necessary as she tightens the wrapping. He lets out a pained groan. Again.  
  
"Ah, sorry."  
  
He opens his eyes as he turns to glare, noticing the small grin on her face.  
  
"You're not! You're obviously not! What's your problem?"  
  
She shrugs, ignoring his stare again. She motions for him to sit straight and he quietly obeys. And he sighs.  
  
He has a gash across his stomach, ending on his side with a deep wound. His head was covered in bandages from being smashed against the ground. Scrapes and bruises covered him all over, but none as major as the former ones.  
  
She looks at him straight in the eye and he just. Stares. Right back, a frown on his face and a raise to his eyebrow, eyes blankly rivalling her expressionless look.  
  
"What?"  
  
It was both terrifying and comforting to know that he's been through worse. That he always got himself in trouble, attracted all kinds of people to fight, encountered several near deaths. And damn annoying too.  
  
"Nothing. Just wondering how ya can still stay alive after all those hits you took." She finishes the binding and sighs in relief. None of his wounds seems to have opened up.  
  
He hums, his mouth turning up at the corners teasingly.  
  
"No need to get worried, Tsukki. I'm fine."  
  
She nods, in that absent-minded way while she tries for an annoyed smile. All too suddenly she’s much more interested with looking down on her boots now that she doesn’t have to see his stupid-  
  
A hand lifts her chin up for her eyes to meet those stupid, dead-fish ones.  
  
He has a blank look. That stupid blank look, like he’s lost in thought or something. His hand slides up to her cheek, his thumb trailing over the scars she put herself. She stays still, as if it’s completely fine for anyone to touch her scars. It actually is. If it’s just Gintoki it is.  
  
So she closes her eyes. Because no one needs to speak, not really. It was peaceful as it is. The solemn atmosphere makes her forget about the rowdy streets of Yoshiwara outside, the chill of the nightly breeze relaxing. It’s times like this that makes her wish the most that they could stay like this for all eternity.  
  
It doesn’t last long. He throws that thought far, far away for her when he finally speaks.  
  
"It's not like I'm the only one getting into trouble." He says in a hushed whisper.  
  
He removes the blood-soaked bandages off the side of her face. All with a bratty-sounding comment on how come she hasn't renewed hers yet, especially when those were the same damn bandages she put on ever since she got the bruises. Gintoki takes a roll of bandages from her hand as he tends to her next.  
  
She was about to answer back, answer back and yell at that she doesn't have it as bad as him. She was obviously just thinking smart. She totally did not forget about herself at all. Nope. He was in the brink of death, fell to the damn ground just like a corpse for god’s sake.  
  
But Tsukuyo has self-control. She knows better than to snap at half-dead idiots thank you very much. So yes, she does not say anything, biting back her lip and returning his gaze.  
  
Instead, she mumbles a choked thank you (against her will) before telling him to go to sleep.  
  
It was a long day and he barely had any rest.  
  
« x »  
  
Everything felt numb for some reason.  
  
That feeling wasn’t really that rare though. That tight, suffocating feeling that’s a hell lot more than just dread stabbing at his chest. Sure, everyone’s alive. He keeps telling himself that. But relief doesn’t wash over him. He never really felt all that happy when they won a battle or two back in the war. In those won battles, his comrades would either yell in celebration or just smile, glad to atleast have won when they make their retreat. All the while he just looks back. At what they left. At who they lost. Lost in thought if they even have a chance to win the war. They didn’t.  
  
He was right.  
  
He felt the exact same right now. Lost in the fog wandering alone, thinking how much he has to kill, thinking how much does he have to lose this time.  
He’d rather keep killing if it meant he won’t have to lose anything anymore.  
  
Something takes over that dread in his chest, something much worse taking over his head.  
  
What the fuck next?  
  
Gintoki isn’t strong. Not really. He’s just good at cheating and escaping, is all. If doing those meant he can save a few more heads, then damn those rules about honor or some shit. No one dumb enough would worry about it in a battle for life and death.  
  
Protect. And protect and protect and protect. He keeps telling himself. Read his opponents' move and forget every stab and cut. Tend to it later. Because who the fuck cares if his body is screaming at him to stop because he needs to stay alive and fight. For everyobody’s sake.  
  
He wakes up quietly. His eyes only opening to see where he actually is after a dreamless sleep. At first, he’s just plain confused that he isn’t just in some random campsite or temple rather than be in one of the buildings of Yoshiwara.  
  
He sits up, and that's when he feels that twitch of pain coming over him. His lower abdomen is starting to become a dead weight to carry, his head buzzing from the aftermath of almost having been crushed, and somehow, a sense of numbness through it all.  
  
He holds to his stomach while he grits his teeth, panting and sweating. Then just like that, he felt lost.  
  
It wasn’t almost dying again that bothered him. It was the katana being too damn close to Shinpachi’s forehead. It was the kid’s look. Like he was actually believing that he was going to die. Too still to even scream anymore.  
  
The kid was a damn idiot. In fact he was so idiotic that Gintoki felt the need to push him out of the way and take the hit. He tries to move the katana away, but instead it stabs at the side of his abdomen. He spits out blood before a hand too big grabs his skull and throws him to the ground. To be fair, he was the biggest idiot of them all.  
  
With that, sounds of screams were ringing at his ears. Too noisy to even let him pass out in peace. The next thing he knew, he got up and fought more. He couldn’t sleep with those expressions looking at him in horror to be his last sight anyway.  
  
Then, he’s here. All banged up and tended to. But alive.  
  
Sometimes he looks around, wondering still how he can even be here at all when some friends were already gone.  
  
The burden’s too big. Too heavy. He doesn’t know how long he can keep carrying it.  
  
  
He falls back down on the futon, closing his eyes to go back to sleep, feeling much worse than he did when he was freaking stabbed. In a flash he sees bloodshed, and he tightens his hands into fists, tempted to hit the floor with all the strength he has.  
  
He doesn’t. Instead just draping the blanket over himself.  
  
He’s in Yoshiwara but it's oddly quiet. Maybe it was one of the perks from staying over in one of the buildings that Housen lived in.  
  
It was too quiet. Much more deafening than the screams that were ringing in his ears from the fight.  
  
« x »  
  
She barely had any rest herself, no matter how hard she tried to fall asleep. It doesn’t matter how many times she tried to close her eyes even for a quick rest. She’s wide awake.  
  
So she decides to check up on him. She slides the door open.  
  
He’s awake, sitting as he leans against the wall. He was quiet, trembling. His face hidden against his knees, his arms wrapped around himself. A blanket draped over his head.  
  
He doesn't look up. She wonders if he even knew that someone just came in.  
  
"Gintoki?" she speaks out.  
  
He doesn't answer. After a while he moves his head in a way he could see her. In a deep and quiet voice he says, "I'm tired."  
  
She strolls over to him, crouching down in front of him. Her hand reaches to the slightly blood-soaked bandages binded over his head, curly locks of silver hair soft to the touch covering most of his forehead.  
  
"A lot of people are after my head."  
  
Not knowing what to say, she nods.  
  
"A big brother set out to kill me, a comrade who always did kinda hate me since being kids, and a couple of forces after me. Ha.”  
  
She nods as she checks his injuries.  
  
"I almost got killed just a while ago."  
  
She frowns, not knowing of what to say or do.  
  
"They almost died."  
  
She stops. Bites her lip, before glancing up. He has that same unreadable expression.  
  
They almost did. If he didn’t almost get himself killed, they probably would be already. The kids, who were alright and outside, eating and acting like nothing happened. The ones who’ve been dying to see their idiotic leader, but couldn’t. Because they wanted him to rest. Give him space.  
  
"They're alright now," she tries for consolation.  
  
"No one can tell when shit's really going down and I might break my promise again. Hah. That’s so fucking hilarious." It looks more like he was talking to himself at this point.  
  
What promise?  
  
She wanted to ask, but stops once she sees that smile. That same, stupid, smile he makes whenever it's a forced one. That broken smile.  
  
She doesn't know what to say. Can’t even find her voice.  
  
She so wishes for a smoke right now. To bring out her kiseru out and think. Instead she takes a deep breath.  
  
Tsukuyo looks at him straight in the eyes and says, "You're not going to break it."  
  
For a moment his eyes flickers with something. Something like hope, she thinks, before he replies, "Maybe."  
  
Then that got her more worried, and a bit mad. Mad at him for being an idiot. That he doesn't realize that it was because of him that the Yorozuya are all alive in exchange for his guts spilled and him half-dead.  
  
"You'll keep it," She still doesn’t know about any promise he’s talking about. But maybe, just maybe her guess is right.  
  
"I'm sure." she adds.  
  
His hand reaches for hers. Gintoki eyes them for a minute before interlocking them together. He squeezes his hold.  
  
With a small laugh he challenges her jokingly, "Heh. You sure about that?"  
  
She squeezes back, and finally smiles.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
She wraps her arms around him and pulls him in a tight hug, resting her head over his shoulder as he rests his on the top of her head.  
  
"Everything's going to be fine."

**Author's Note:**

> written for TheBlueSheep from a writing prompt on tumblr!


End file.
